Parallelum
by trenzallure
Summary: Two halves of two wholes become complete again, as a long lost artefact crosses paths with an adventurous wanderer


The key turned in the lock and the door clicked completely shut. The lights and the colour inside extinguished with this act of daily finality but the brightness of number ninety-three, Diagon Alley flourished as always.

George strode between the many cluttered shops and stalls that were also closing for the day, passing several of his fellow workers in the street as he went. The sky was a greyish blue, halfway between day and night. Passed Flourish and Blott's, Eeylop's Owl Emporium and Madam Malkin's. He nodded and waved at store owners who absent-mindedly returned the gesture while trying to deal with frantic, last minute buyers.

As he reached the displays in the foggy windows of Ollivander's, he peered in. The shop had closed hours ago; dust was already forming on the counter. Ollivander was not known for his cleanliness.

Just behind the counter, to the left of the many dark, unkempt shelves that carried countless wands of all shapes and sizes in small rectangular boxes stood a high, shiny black cabinet. George knew this to be the very same cabinet that had allowed the Death Eaters passage to Hogwarts many years ago, resulting in the death of the greatest wizard of his age, and his old school principal.

Now, however, the vanishing cabinet had a new purpose. Bought from Borgin and Burke's by Ollivander and protected with a charm to ensure no dark wizard would ever put it to use again, it was kept in his store as an emergency gateway to the wizarding school.

George contemplated a daring adventure. He ashamedly brushed aside his hesitation. He knew… had he been here with him… that _he_ would not think twice…

He raised his wand casually under his cloak, pointed it slowly at the door and muttered 'Alohamora'. A tiny click, and the door was now unlocked. George stowed his wand back within his robes and gently pushed the door open, quietly closing it behind him after making sure nobody had seen. He scurried over to the vanishing cabinet, opened its heavy black doors and stepped inside.

A whoosh of what felt like wind, and suddenly, a door appeared in front of him in place of the back of the cabinet. He nudged it open and stepped out into the Room of Requirement. Restored to its prime condition; the cabinet entrusted with a new, purer twin, the Room flustered George with its unearthly collection of titbits and artefacts. Filled with shelves reaching up to the roof that held all kinds of mysterious objects, books, supplies; the Room impressed on George the feeling of being an ant in a rainforest.

To be the place where ever-enduring bonds had been formed through an act of rebellion once more overwhelmed him. To be in the school that had taken life from him, but given him spirit to bear it…  
>He strolled through the clutter, picking up and examining items as he did so. He passed a stack of Defence Against the Dark Arts books, a large, golden-framed mirror, upon which his reflection faded into and out of view as he passed, and a collection of curious, silver instruments that he knew had once belonged to one Albus Dumbledore.<p>

He ambled back to the mirror and tried to read the engraving across the top. Upon failing, George stared into his own eyes for a few moments and tried unsuccessfully to tidy his hair, before deciding to head back to the vanishing cabinet. It was getting late, after all. Angelina would be expecting him home.  
>He pulled himself away from his own gaze and took a few steps away. Out of the corner of his eye, his reflection didn't.<p>

He skipped back to the mirror, hoping to catch some sign of magic behind the glass, but his hopes were obstructed by the plainly clear image of himself and only himself. It must have been a trick of the light.  
>George ruffled his hair once more, the manifestation in the mirror mimicking him. He lowered his arm. The George in the mirror winked.<p>

Eyes widening in shock, he leaned closer, his nose close to smudging the glass, but nothing out of the ordinary occurred until he leaned back. The edge of his twin's lip curled in apparent amusement.

Shrugging it off as a long day, George gave it up and hurried back to the cabinet. The door closed, a whoosh could be heard as he vanished back to Ollivander's, leaving the Room of Requirement, the mirror and its engraving, behind.

'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'.


End file.
